I have the power
by The-Writerwoman
Summary: One night, a while before Reichenbach, Moriarty sneaks into Sherlock's room. Not a dirty fic. See it how you want.


**The inspiration for this fic came from my friend who I talk to on a regular basis about Sherlock. She was like "Oh hey, what about this?" and I was like "OMG YES!" So...here it is :D Lets just pretend that Sherlock's bed had railing at the back instead of a headboard. It's make sense. I don't own the characters or the BBC sadly. Enjoy :D **

Sherlock wasn't really the type to get worried about things easily. When chasing a serial killer, he had no qualms about jumping across building or car bonnets, anything to make sure the killer was brought to justice. Whether he got hurt or not wasn't a big matter for him. He had John to worry about that now. That's why on one night when he was actually sleeping for once,

He didn't raise it to attention that Jim Moriarty had slipped into his bedroom.

Sherlock was weird enough to not even shout for John when Moriarty jumped on him and slid a pair of handcuffs on him and attached them to the back of the bed before Sherlock could move. He just raised an eyebrow while Moriarty grinned.

"Don't want you running off anywhere"

He whispered. Sherlock raised his eyebrow even more. Jim sat so he was straddling Sherlock.

"I just wanted to talk"

"In the middle of the night while I was trying to sleep? Not very you"

Moriarty shrugged.

"I'd rather not have your little pet bursting in on us while we were talking"

"So...you thought our flat would be the best place?"

Moriarty tutted.

"Kidnapping is so Disney villain. Besides, it's more your brothers thing than mine"

Sherlock frowned.

"Fine. What did you want to talk about?"

Moriarty bobbed his head side to side in an almost playful fashion.

"Oh you know this and that. Maybe I don't even want to talk. Maybe I wanted to do this"

Moriarty got up and pulled the covers off before sitting down again. It was his turn to raise and eyebrow.

"Really Sherlock? You wear your day clothes to bed? Not very hygienic"

If Sherlock was a sane person, he'd be wondering why a person who considered themselves a consulting criminal be worried about personal hygiene. Then again, a sane person would still be stuck as to why they weren't calling for help. That was besides the matter as Moriarty started unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt very slowly. Once open, he pushed each piece of fabric to the side, exposing Sherlock's pale chest which was enhanced by the moonlight shining through the room.

Moriarty was smiling gently, almost looking sane, as he pulled out a jack-knife. He pressed it lightly against the bottom of Sherlock's throat where it meets his collar bone, hard enough to make a small indent, but not so hard as to draw blood. He moved it slowly down Sherlock's abdomen whilst humming.

"You know, I really could do anything I wanted to you right now"

Sherlock looked at him. Moriarty giggled.

"Not like that you dirty boy. Although, I do wonder...no. Not tonight. I meant it as in I could kill you right now, silently so nobody would find you until they noticed you missing. I could slice your throat"

Moriarty brought the knife up to Sherlock's throat and mimed cutting it.

"Or I could slit your arms"

He brought the knife to Sherlock's arms and mimed slicing them.

"Or"

He said in an almost singsong voice.

"I could gut you like a fish and leave your intestines and other important organs lying about, almost like art you see"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Not that I'm not fascinated by your 'love of art', what exactly is the point of this? You're disturbing my sleep and I've been reliably informed I get a little...tense if I don't get enough sleep"

Moriarty let out a gleeful chuckle.

"There's no real reason you idiot. I just love to flaunt power. Because I have power over you Sherlock. I make things not so boring don't I? If you wasn't bored, you would have called for help the moment you noticed me enter your room. Take this as a final warning. For me? Hearts don't work if they're burnt"

Sherlock scowled.

"No"

Moriarty sighed. He pocketed his knife.

"Fine, if you're going to be like that"

Moriarty put what looked like the key to the handcuffs at the end of the bed.

"I'll have to catch you later if you're going to be boring"

Moriarty stood up and went to the window in which he entered.

"Bye"

With that, he was gone.

John was mad in the morning after he found out what happened.

**I think it got a little sucky at the end ._. I didn't really know where I was going with this. It wasn't going to end up smutty, I'm not ready for that. Somebody needs to help me get rid of this angst bunny that seems to be living with me D: give me a fluff prompt or all my fics will tear your heart out . Anyways, reviews are love :D **


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